


Why am I here?

by Riddles_and_Writing



Category: Batman (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, But she's not named so I dunno if it counts, Depression, I guess it also has an OC, Jason Todd Has Issues, Mentions of Suicide, Nothing explicit, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, This is one huge emotional dump for me to deal with my issues, because I couldn't write something like that at this point, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 18:18:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10622457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riddles_and_Writing/pseuds/Riddles_and_Writing
Summary: ‘Why the hell am I here’ Jason asked himself internally‘Because you climbed the fucking building you idiot’Jason produced a pained laugh that shifted to a groan.‘Way to go cynical sarcastic side of my brain, you’ve made a depressing night just that much better through your humorless wit. My life is fulfilled.’Or, my emotional issues dumped on one of my favorite characters so I can stand existing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rated for language and dark themes. Read the tags guys, please. And despite my own horrible coping methods, trauma and depression and everything else hinted at are all things that can be recovered from. It is not hopeless and it is A Lot Easier if you can get help. So if you're feeling this way about anything, please talk to someone. I was going to put some sort of redeeming qualities at the end or something but I'm just really not feeling it, so there is no happy ending. If it MIGHT be detrimental for your emotional state to read something depressing, please DON'T.

‘ _Why the hell am I here’_ Jason asked himself internally

‘ _Because you climbed the fucking building you idiot_ ’

Jason produced a pained laugh that shifted to a groan.

‘ _Way to go cynical sarcastic side of my brain, you’ve made a depressing night just that much better through your humorless wit. My life is fulfilled._ ’

The dry wind shifted as he looked down at the busy street twenty stories below. No one cared that he was here. The street was mostly deserted. Besides, anyone that had the possibility of being traumatized by an unexpected suicide was going to witness one eventually. It didn’t really matter if it was his or the homeless nobody who’d take a similar swan dive next week. But that didn’t stop the question from repeating itself in his mind

‘Why am I here?’

It took the form of several different people voicing the question, as it always did. The voice switched from person to person. The Jason’s-brain Tim asked the question in a confused, pained voice as he looked down at the Drake Industries insignia glowing faintly in the dark

‘Why are you _here_?’

Thinking the building Jason jumped from would go unrecognized by the world’s greatest mini detective was about as irrational as thinking he actually cared. Tim would be fine, better off, without him there to mess up his life. He was, for the most part, getting along fine with the rest of the ‘family’. Being around Jason only caused unnecessary conflict. That was Jason’s forte of course, but that wasn’t the biggest issue he was currently facing. The voice switched to a happy, oblivious voice that sounded similar to a songbird. Free, other worldly, it asked in a playful manner.

‘Why are _you_ here?’

As if it had every reason to be on a skyscraper at 2:00 AM.  But with Dick, it wasn’t irregular for him to run around the city just to feel the wind in his hair. Jason sometimes felt that he wasn’t grounded on earth at all, but lived in the sky with brief landings to say hello to the earth creatures.

He sighed. How that stupid jerk managed to be so happy and light confused him. A jealous envy washed over him. Why couldn’t he just let things slid like Dick did? The great Nightwing never gave into any stupid urges that left him scarred and bruised because his fucked up mind told him it was the only option. He never would’ve considered _this_.

‘ _Why_ are you here?’

And there he was: the great detective billionaire Bruce Wayne. He was using his Batman voice of course, but that was irrelevant. Jason shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold. The way he said it, like it would be fine as long as he had a good reason. Like the emotional bit didn’t matter as long as he could logically argue the point that this was best. That the Bat would step away as soon as he was convinced Jason had thought it through. Yeah, this was doing wonders for his mental state.

He didn’t need this. He was already screwed, already made up his mind. This was just his head punishing him for taking so long to make the right decision.

He’d prepared. Locked up his safe houses, made arrangements for the few primary groups Red Hood dealt with, made a clear example of those that messed with the girls he protected in their nightly businesses, broken those that dared harm the street kids that had come to rely on him to make sure they slept safely. They’d be fine. He didn’t need to do anything else. He was going to be fine.

One long breath and he was ready, so close to jumping. No, that wasn’t the right word; he was so close to falling, just falling. Yes, he liked it being put that way. It wasn’t violent. It wasn’t like Jason’s entire life. He was just falling. No one could tell whether he was falling to sleep, falling in love, or scraping his knee like a toddler. No one knew what he was falling towards or away from. He could count his last breaths in peace. There was nothing to be afraid of. Death wasn’t so bad. He’d been there before and it wasn’t that bad at all. It was dying that hurt. Living that stung like a knife embedded in his soul.

But a cry rang through the night. None of the Bats were in this area, he’d made sure, and he knew the kind of people that hung in the alleyways in this part of town. He didn’t need to bother with it anymore. It wasn’t his issue anymore. He was done. He didn’t need to worry about people or the universe or anything. He was so close. He just needed a few more seconds of silence and he would’ve been gone.

‘HAHA _Why are you_ -No shut the HELL UP!’

He didn’t need the fucking Joker’s voice in his head, mocking his weakness and pain. He was obviously just was looking for a way out. He’d bee faking obviously. He hadn’t been serious about dying. That’s why he and the Joker had gotten along so well: neither of them could be fucking serious.

He wavered on the edge for a moment before a muffled scream rang out again.

‘FUCK THIS’

And he dropped towards the alley, grappling to break his fall at the last second, with a silent promise that the next time he fell, it wouldn’t have such a soft landing.

The man who was the cause of the commotion had his hands all over the girl. She looked to be in her later teens, scared with a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries. Jason’s blood boiled and he dropped on the man with a yell. He took all his anger. Fists pounding into the man’s head until there was an audible crack and his fists were covered in something else entirely. He didn’t stop. He let his anger out and by the time he was finished, the son of a bitch hadn’t been breathing for a long time. So Bats would be mad. Who the fuck cares? His last night alive and he’s killed a would-be rapist, assuming that this was his first attack and he wasn’t successful previously. Why would anyone waste their breath trying to defend the piece of scum? He growled and kicked the lifeless body as if daring it to get up and try again.

Turing to the girl, he wanted to tell her that it was okay, that everything was going to be alright. But one look at her face and he knew he couldn’t.

‘Why are you here?’

The question rang out again, this time a dare. Say it’s because you help people. Say it’s because this girl would be in a far worse place if you hadn’t showed. Say it’s because you aren’t a fucking failure and a waste of oxygen. Go on, say it.

But all Jason could see is the statistics for sexual assault victims, the people who grew up in abusive relationships, the ones who were more likely the be abused again, assaulted again. This was their life because you weren’t just okay after something like that. You couldn’t just be okay. And he hadn’t saved this girl he was years too late for that. One look at her face and he could tell that the attacker wasn’t the only one who had experience with this sort of crime. One look and he knew he couldn’t lie like that, tell he she would be okay when they both knew there was no fucking way. There was no fucking way anyone could be okay, and she knew this more than anyone. You don’t recover from the lack of control; you just find ways of filling it, unhealthy ways that put you at more of a risk than the sane people.

Jason offered his jacket to the girl, her ripped top in no way covering as much as it had been originally designed. She seemed to calm, as if relieved he didn’t try to tell her she would be okay. In that moment, they both knew it wasn’t true, and she expressed a silent thank you for not expecting different.

 

By the time the girl had received medical attention and was safely back in her apartment it was nearly sunrise. Jason was tired. The tired that wasn’t going to be solved with sleep but sleep was the best option anyway. His promise from earlier still stood. He was going to fall eventually. That was clear, but he was too tired. He didn’t have to motivation to even go kill himself. So he just slumped over the couch of his nearest safe house, the girl’s address, name, and picture added to the file of people he had to watch out for. He’d always had a file like that, even when he’d been Robin. When you didn’t particularly care for yourself, it was hard to find the reason to keep yourself safe and so he’d started keeping tabs on people he knew weren’t doing well emotionally. He’d check in on them. Make sure they were eating, make sure they had basic security, and kept a basic knowledge of the times when they wouldn’t care to care for themselves. Not that it mattered right now. He was dead everywhere except physically, just too tired to pick up his gun, too tired to hold anything, with fingers too weak to pull the trigger.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated. This is my first fanfiction, so please be gentle, but I'd like to know what you guys think.


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